The Unborn Killer

0.2

Junaid stepped on the concrete sidewalk, checking his phone to make sure he was at the right address.

He clutched the case files in his hand, as he made his way through the path that cut through the neatly done lawn.

The Parkers' residence was a single storey house surrounded by the beautiful countryside. It was an hour long drive to get here, but a really scenic one.

Junaid's finger hovered above the door bell for a few seconds. He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt nervous.

He turned to his right and found a young boy sitting on his cycle, in the neighboring lawn, staring at him. He finally pressed the door bell.

A woman answered the door. She had bright auburn hair, a stark contrast to Abigail's. Her face looked tired. She gave Junaid a questioning smile.

"How may I help you?" she asked.

"I am Lieutenant Junaid Khan, from the Special Task Force," Junaid returned her smile. "I'm here to meet Abigail Parker."

"Oh. Please come in. I'm her mother, Margaret," she said, as she led Junaid to the parlor. "Gail should return from her morning walk soon."

"Please make your comfortable," Margaret said, pointing towards the cream colored sofa. "I'll just be back." Margaret walked down the hallway and entered a door to her left.

Junaid sat down on the sofa and looked around the parlor. It had minimal furniture but gave off a cozy and warm vibe. There were many frames hanging around the room. One had Gail posing with Margaret, a girl and a man, on the beach. He assumed they were her sister and father. He wondered where they were. Looking at the pictures, they looked like a close knit family. There were barely any individual photos.

He placed the files in his hand on the coffee table in front of him. He decided to go through the file while he waited for Gail. He opened the file and separated the crime scene photos from the lab reports.

Just then Margaret walked out, from what was probably the kitchen, with a tray in her hand.

"I hope you like coffee," she inquired as she placed a mug of the hot beverage on the coffee table.

"I do. This is just what---" Junaid started to say but was cut off by the sound of the front door being closed.

In walked, Gail.

Junaid wouldn't have recognized her, had Margaret not called out her name. She looked completely different from the photo Junaid had seen in her file.

Her face was no longer smiling, but cold. Her attitude was indifferent. Something about the way she stared at him, made Junaid feel queasy.

Junaid stood up when he saw Gail walk towards them. Gail's gaze fell on the crime scene photos lying on the coffee table.

Junaid could swear he saw a flicker of emotion in her eyes, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. What was it? Sadness? Pain?

Gail couldn't tear her gaze away from the photos. She had heard all about the case. The longer she stared at them, the sicker she felt.

"Leave," Gail said in an ice cold tone. She was still staring at the photos.

"Sorry?" Junaid spoke, thinking maybe he had misheard her.

"I said leave," Gail repeated. "Now."

The tone in which she spoke struck Junaid as rude, but he did not say that out loud.

"In case you change your mind," Junaid said, as he placed his visiting card next to the file. He nodded at Margaret, who gave him a watery smile, before walking past Gail and out of the parlor.

Once the front door was shut, Margaret spoke, "You could've at least heard him out." Her tone was not chastising, but gentle.

"What was there to listen? Clarissa sent him here to convince me to accept this case," Gail said. She was pacing in the space between the sofa and the coffee table, trying to calm her nerves. "I don't know why she thinks that I can solve this case."

"Maybe because you are good at what you do," Margaret said. Gail let out a humorless laugh. "I think you should accept this case."

Gail stopped her pacing and turned to face her mother. "Maa, you know... I can't... " she stammered.

"Why can't you? This is what you always wanted to do, didn't you? It was always your dream to become a cop, wasn't it? And you were brilliant at what you did. Then why can't you?" Margaret said, as she took her daughter's hand in hers. "Life doesn't give everyone a second chance, you know. If you're lucky enough to get it, then don't let it go."

"You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened all those years ago. It's time you moved on. You have a life too, and you should start living it," Margaret said, as she ran her fingers through Gail's hair. "I lost one daughter, and I do not want to lose my other daughter, too."

A single tear rolled down Gail's cheek. She had managed to put up a facade, of being strong all these years. But today, the facade was crumbling.

"And these women," Margaret picked up one of the crime scene photos, "they deserve justice. Their families deserve closure. And maybe, just maybe, solving this case might help you find closure too."

~

Gail stared at the dilapidated store in front of her.

This was the lone store in the area. It had been three years since the owner had permanently shut it down.

The sign hanging on the wall still occasionally blinked. The glass walls of the store were covered in graffiti, drawn in bold red ink. The yellow police tape was hanging from the handle of the store door. The remainder of the tape was lying crumpled on the stone steps.

The store inside was dark and looked forebading. Using her mobile flashlight, Gail entered the store. The lock that was meant to keep unwanted visitors out, had since long gone missing.

The store was a small one, and had always been stocked with all the essential items. There were just two aisles, and a cash counter, in a corner next to the entrance. Both if them were lying empty now.

Entering this store had caused all the unpleasant memories to come rushing back. The memories that Gail had been trying to forget.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps.

Gail turned her mobile flashlight off. She stood behind a long rectangular​ shelf that separated the two aisles. The footsteps were moving towards her. She could make out the tiny beam of light dancing in front of the person.

A few seconds later, a hand clutching a gun appeared just inches away from Gail's face.

Without wasting a second, Gail grabbed the person's wrist and gripped it hard. With her free left hand, she rammed the side of his head into the wall of the shelf. She twisted his wrist, until the gun fell from his hand.

"Who are you?" Gail asked through gritted teeth.

"Abigail?!" he managed to say. "I'm Junaid! We just met a couple hours ago! I'm on your side!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Gail asked with a c****d eyebrow, as she let him free.

"It's my crime scene, in case you don't remember," Junaid said, as he rubbed his temple, that had just a millisecond earlier made contact with hard concrete wall. There was a small cut near his eyebrow from when Gail's nails had dug into his skin. "But what are you doing here?"

"How did you know someone was inside here?" Gail asked, a skeptical look on her face.

"I came here to re-examine the crime scene to see if we had missed something. But imagine my surprise when I saw footprints in the dust, when I entered the store. I thought maybe someone was trying to vandalize the place. But luckily, it turned out to be you."

If Gail had picked on the sarcasm in Junaid's last sentence, she did not show it.

"You still didn't answer my question. What are you doing here? Since you are not a part of this case, you cannot be here," Junaid stated.

"Who said I'm not a part of this case?"

"You kicked me out of your house, when I came to talk to you about accepting this case! You told me no flat on my face!"

"Did I specifically say no?" Gail asked, with her signature c****d eyebrow.

"Well, no," Junaid answered awkwardly.

"Well, then it's not my fault you just assumed my answer was no," Gail said, a nonchalant look on her face.

"What?" Junaid said. He just stared blankly at Gail.

"Give Clarissa a message from me. I'll meet her in her office, tomorrow at 9:00 A.M." Gail called out, as she walked out of the store. "To officially take over the case."

Junaid just gaped at her receding form, as she walked out of the door.

~